ike success were during the promenade in the lancers. In
"hands-all-round" he invariably started with the wrong hand; and if in
the set there were girls big enough to wear long dresses, he never
failed to tear such out at the gathers. If anybody fell down in the
polka it was always The Boy; and if anybody bumped into anybody else,
The Boy was always the bumper, unless his partner could hold him up and
steer him straight.

Games, at parties, he enjoyed more than dancing, although he did not
care very much for "Pillows and Keys," until he became courageous enough
to kneel before somebody except his maiden aunts. "Porter" was less
embarrassing, because, when the door was shut, nobody but the little
girl who called him but could tell whether he kissed her or not. All
this happened a long time ago!

The only social function in which The Boy took any interest whatever was
the making of New-Year's calls. Not that he cared to make New-Year's
calls in themselves, but because he wanted to make more New-Year's calls
than were made by any other boy. His "list," based upon last year's
list, was commenced about February 1; and it contained the names of
every person whom The Boy knew, or thought he knew, whether that person
knew The Boy or not, from Mrs. Penrice, who boarded opposite the Bowling
Green, to the Leggats and the Faures, who lived near Washington Parade
Ground, the extreme social limits of his city in those days. He usually
began by making a formal call upon his own mother, who allowed him to
taste the pickled oysters as early as ten in the morning; and he
invariably wound up by calling upon Ann Hughes in the kitchen, where he
met the soap-fat man, who was above his profession, and likewise the
sexton of Ann Hughes's church, who generally came with Billy, the barber
on the corner of Franklin Street. There were certain calls The Boy
always made with his father, during which he did not partake of pickled
oysters; but he had pickled oysters everywhere else; and they never
seemed to do him any serious harm.

[Illustration: READY FOR A NEW-YEAR'S CALL]

The Boy, if possible, kept his new overcoat until New Year's Day--and he
never left it in the hall when he called! He always wore new green kid
gloves--why green?--fastened at the wrists with a single hook and eye;
and he never took off his kid gloves when he called, except on that
particular New Year's Day when his aunt Charlotte gave him the
bloodstone seal-ring, which,